Chapter 5 – Becoming Boyfriends & Early Symptoms
The crisp air of early winter seemed to carry a sense of new beginnings. Conor and Chad walked across campus, side by side, their hands brushing occasionally as though the universe was pushing them closer together.
"Conor," Chad said one evening, his voice quieter than usual. They had just finished a late study session and were lingering beneath the dim campus lights. "Can I... can I date you?"
Conor froze. His heart leapt at the question, but so did his fears. He looked down, his breath visible in the chilly air. "I... I'm not ready yet. Not today." His voice was steady, though a storm swirled inside him. "I'm sorry."
Chad gave him a small, reassuring smile, not at all upset. "It's okay. I'll wait."
And he did.
For three weeks, Chad never pushed, never asked again. Instead, he simply stayed by Conor's side—walking him to class, laughing with him, studying with him, and sometimes just sitting in silence, making sure Conor never felt alone.
Then, on a quiet Friday evening as they strolled across the quad, Conor stopped suddenly. His chest felt warm, heavy, and for once, the weight wasn't pain—it was love.
He turned to Chad, his heart racing. "Chad... about what you asked me before."
Chad tilted his head. "Yeah?"
"Yes," Conor said, without hesitation this time. "Yes, I want to be with you."
Chad's smile lit up the cold evening, brighter than the stars above them. He reached for Conor's hand. "Then... can I be your boyfriend?"
"Yes," Conor whispered again, and before doubt could creep back in, Chad leaned closer. Their lips met in a soft, tentative kiss—gentle at first, then deeper, as though both had been waiting for this moment their entire lives.
When they pulled apart, Conor's face burned red, but his heart felt light, freer than it had in years.
"I have something for you," Chad said, fumbling in his pocket. He pulled out a simple bracelet woven with two colors—his favorite and Conor's. "It's a promise bracelet. Whenever I tap mine..." He demonstrated by lightly pressing his own. A moment later, Conor's bracelet buzzed gently on his wrist.
Conor's eyes widened. "You made this?"
Chad grinned. "Yeah. That way, no matter where we are, you'll know I'm thinking of you."
Conor stared at the bracelet, overwhelmed. No one had ever given him something so thoughtful, so personal. His chest tightened, not with fear this time, but with the kind of happiness that almost hurt because it felt too good to be real.
For the first time in years, Conor felt seen. Truly seen. His 8th-grade memories—the teasing, the isolation, the mocking whispers—felt distant, though they still lingered like scars. He had been invisible for so long, overlooked by classmates, ignored by friends, even by his own family. But now, Chad's presence reminded him that he was important, needed, and worthy of love.
They spent the evening wandering campus, fingers entwined, laughing about small things. Yet, as they returned to their dorm, Conor noticed a small headache pulsing behind his eyes. He brushed it off, not wanting to dampen the night.
"You okay?" Chad asked, immediately noticing.
Conor forced a smile. "Yeah... just tired."
Chad didn't push. He simply reached out and brushed a lock of hair from Conor's forehead. "Promise me you'll tell me if something's wrong."
Conor nodded, though a knot tightened in his stomach.
Over the following weeks, the symptoms grew harder to ignore—moments of dizziness, unexplained fatigue, flashes of blurred vision. But Conor stayed silent, afraid to break the fragile joy he'd finally found.
At night, he wrote in his diary, his hand trembling slightly:
"I've never been this happy. Chad makes me feel like I belong. But something's wrong with me. I know it. I just... I don't want to scare him away. I don't want to be a burden."
Clutching the bracelet on his wrist, Conor whispered into the dark as Chad slept beside him: "I can't let this ruin us. I won't. Not now. Not ever."
✨ This version now has:
Chad asking Conor out, Conor saying not yet, then 3 weeks later saying yes.
Their first kiss on the lips.
The promise bracelet with the tapping/vibration feature.
Smooth integration of Conor's early illness symptoms and diary entry.